


Sharpe's Secret Weapon

by jj_minerva



Category: Sharpe (TV)
Genre: Humour, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-01-31
Updated: 1998-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-15 06:29:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jj_minerva/pseuds/jj_minerva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blame it on the French!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharpe's Secret Weapon

**Author's Note:**

> Do not look for any historical accuracy in this story! It is purely fictional. Re-edited 2011

Part 1

"Sit down Colonel Lawford. What I'm about to show you is of the utmost secrecy. Major Hogan recently intercepted a strongbox full of French letters, but hidden underneath were these." Wellington paused, letting the expectation build, then with a flurry of his hand dropped something onto his table.

Colonel William Lawford bent over and inspected the item closely. It was a long article, made from sheep gut and knotted at one end. Lawford poked it with his finger and frowned. Looking up at Wellington he inquired in a subdued voice, "What is it Sir?"

"It's a new French weapon. We've know about it for some time, but this is the first example we have found."

Lawford raised his eyebrows doubtfully. "It looks rather harmless sir, what does it do?" he asked cautiously.

Wellington sat back in his chair and watched Lawford closely. "It's a weapon against one of the greatest threats a soldier faces these days Colonel, the Pox!"

Lawford hurriedly pulled his finger back and paled slightly. "Really sir?"

"Yes, Napoleon has been issuing them to his troops to protect them against catching the Pox. Now that we've got some, I want our men to try them out." Wellington paused again, lowered his voice slightly and said, "You are to issue these to a company of the South Essex Regiment and then report back to me on how effective they are. Do you understand, Colonel?"

Lawford blinked his blue eyes at Wellington, shook his fair head and said in a puzzled voice, "Not really sir, what exactly are the men to 'do' with them."

Wellington took a deep breath and considered calling in another Colonel. Perhaps Lawford had been a bad choice for this assignment. He wasn't what you would call a worldly man. "Look at it Mr. Lawford! What do you think the men do with it!" said Wellington hoping Lawford would need now further instruction. There were some things that a General shouldn't have to explain!

Lawford picked up the object, turned it over a few times and finally slipped it onto his finger. "Oh I see now sir, they put them on their fingers, sort of like a pair of gloves so they won't get their hands dirty?"

Wellington sat back in his chair with a groan. "Colonel Lawford, you were married recently, weren't you?" he asked patiently.

"Yes sir, just before I left England to join the Regiment." replied Lawford happily.

"And what did you do with your wife, Colonel?" Wellington continued.

Lawford smiled happily and said, "Why I set her up in a rather nice country estate in Cornwall sir. She'll be very comfortable there."

"I'm sure she will be Colonel, but what did you do on your wedding day."

"Why we talked to the guests, danced, drank a few toasts..."

"And after that!" interrupted Wellington. My God, he thought, the man can't be this thick!

"We went up to bed sir." said Lawford nervously. He was starting to feel uncomfortable.

"And then?" prompted Wellington

"Well we read for a while, Shakespeare I seem to remember, my cousin had given us a leather bound set as a wedding gift. My wife read 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' and I read 'Much Ado about Nothing'." Lawford smiled and waited for Wellington to continue.

Wellington ran his hand across his face and said, "And did you do anything else Mr Lawford?"

"Why no sir," said Lawford in a horrified voice, "What sort of man do you think I am!"

Wellington shook his head slightly and wondered why Lawford's admission didn't really surprise him. He pressed on. "Have you ever been to a brothel Mr Lawford?"

William Lawford blushed a very attractive shade of red and blurted out, "Yes, once, but it was all Richard Sharpe's fault, he made me do it!"

Wellington sat up with start at the mention of Sharpe's name. This sounds interesting, he thought to himself. Maybe Lawford isn't as naive as he appears to be.

"Captain Sharpe made you go to a brothel?" inquired Wellington trying not to show too much interest.

"It was years ago when we were in India together sir," confessed Lawford, his breathing getting faster. "I told him I'd never done it before, but he insisted. He told me to watch him and do whatever he did." Lawford swallowed, took a deep breath and continued.

"So that's what I did sir, I watched him and did what he did. I didn't take my eyes off him the whole time!"

Wellington closed his mouth and wondered if he should ask more about this incident. Unfortunately now was not the time. "So does that give you any ideas Mr Lawford." Wellington said trying to bring the conversation back to the matter at hand.

"Oh no sir, I never thought about Richard like that. I don't care what Captain Morris said we were doing in his report, Richard was just showing me where he hid his picklock." Lawford jumped up from his chair and started pacing, clearly intent on proving his innocence.

God Almighty, thought Wellington, is it too late to recall Simmerson. "Colonel Lawford you put it on your dick!" said shouted, holding out the French item and waving it at Lawford.

Lawford stopped pacing and faced Wellington. "Sir, I must protest, he's not my Dick, we are just good friends!"

"Your willie, you put it on your willie!"

Lawford stood there with his mouth opened and for one horrid moment Wellington thought the Colonel might faint. Wellington quickly picked up a canvas bag from beside his desk and thrust it at Lawford.

"Give these to Captain Sharpe and tell him to give them out to his men. I'm sure 'he'll' know what to do with them. Dismissed!"

~

 

It was a rather subdued Colonel Lawford who approached Captain Richard Sharpe later that afternoon. Sharpe had just returned from patrol and had run into a group of French infantry on the way back to camp. His men had made short work of the enemy, but as usual Sharpe was covered in sweat and blood and dust. He had pulled off his shirt and was bent over a water trough washing when Lawford found him.

"Hello there Richard, it's good to see you." Lawford let his eyes roam over his Captain. "You're looking well," he said with a smile as he eyed the broad shoulders, scarred back and lean waist.

Sharpe straightened up and smiled back at his Colonel.

"Did yer want me for something sir?" he asked.

"Not now Richard, maybe later. Wellington wants you to give these out to your men." Lawford opened the bag and handed one of the items to Sharpe.

"What is it?" asked Sharpe wiping the water from his eyes to get a better look.

"Its er it's um, it's ...French! A new French invention. Major Hogan found it with some French letters. I think it's made from some sort of animal intestine." said Lawford.

"Well what's it for?" asked Sharpe examining the item.

"You...er...you..um..er..you put it on ..eer...your...er" stammered Lawford.

Sharpe eyed the thing suspiciously.

"Your rifle sir? You put it on your Rifle?" he asked.

"Er um yes, I think you could...." said Lawford still not certain that he knew what Wellington had meant him to do with the damned things. Surely Wellington couldn't really have meant for the men 'wear' them.

Sharpe held the thing up and looked inside.

"Why sir?"

"Oh it...er...it's...er to ...er it stops...er...err" Lawford blushed again and wondered why his uncle General McCandless had never warned him about the problems you encountered when commanding a Regiment.

"It stops the ball falling out? You put it on the end of your rifle to stop the ball falling out?" ask Sharpe. What a bloody useless waste of time, he thought.

"Yes that's what you do with it!" said Lawford relieved that he didn't have to go into any more detail. Sharpe's idea certainly sounded better than what Wellington had in mind!

"But do you leave it on there or take it off when yer ready to shoot?" asked Sharpe. Who the hell thought we could use this thing, he thought to himself. Everyone knows the French are loosing the war and is it any bloody wonder!

"Er well, I suppose you take it off if you have time, but otherwise you shoot right through it," stammered Lawford hoping Sharpe wouldn't ask any more questions.

"And Wellington wants a full report on how effective these things are, so you had better get your lads to try them out straight away." Lawford handed the bag to Sharpe.

"Bloody Hell!" swore Sharpe under his breath. He had been looking forward to a quiet afternoon and now he'd have to test out this damned French thing for Lawford.

"I'll get them at it right away sir," said Sharpe and he turned to go.

"Oh and Richard," began Lawford quietly, his eyes suddenly soft "I've lost the key to my trunk again. Do you think you could bring your picklock around later tonight and unlock it for me?"

Richard Sharpe just smiled.

~

 

In another part of the camp, Sharpe's company of riflemen sat together examining the loot they had taken from the dead French Infantry.

"Will you look at this thing," said Cooper holding up something to show the rest.

"What is it Cooper?" asked Dan Hagman moving closer to get a better look.

"Got no idea, but it seems to be made from sheep's guts." Cooper replied. "Bloody Frog had it tucked in his ammunition pouch."

The riflemen all stared at the article with curiosity.

"Maybe he carried his gunpowder in it," said Harris putting on his glasses to get a better look.

"Musket balls?" suggested Hagman poking it with his finger. It looked strong enough!

"I know! I know!" said young Perkins excitedly. "Look at the shape of it, it's bloody obvious."

"No need to swear Perkins," said Hagman waving down the excited youth.

"A cover for his bayonet, to stop it rusting?" suggested Isaiah Tongue.

"No, no, look at it!" shouted Perkins hopping up and down.

"Maybe he used it for carrying leeches, like Harper does?" said Harris thoughtfully.

"No they'd eat right through it," replied Hagman.

Lieutenant Harry Price wandered by at that moment and stopped to listen to the conversation. He overheard the strangest things sometimes and today was no exception.

"I bet he put his sausage in it!" shouted Perkins and all the riflemen turned to look at young rifleman.

"Bloody hell Perkins." said Hagman "What do yer mean?"

"Look at the shape! I bet those Frogs put them on their sausages. Keep them nice and clean they would. It's about the right size and shape for those big garlic sausages they all eat!"

There were nods and murmurs of agreement from the riflemen as they viewed the thing with new understanding.

But Rifleman Copper was not convinced.

"Well if they kept their bloody sausages in it then it should smell of garlic." said Cooper and he promptly stuck his nose in the end and sniffed.

There was silence as the riflemen awaited Cooper's verdict. Cooper withdrew his nose then sniffed again. He frowned slightly then said, "Well it's not garlic that's for sure. It smells like...no it couldn't be. Here Dan, what does that smell like to you."

Cooper handed the thing to Hagman who gingerly sniffed.

"Bloody Hell Cooper, it smells like....No, how would that get in to it?" he shook his head and handed it back to Cooper who took another whiff.

"It sure smells like it though." he said frowning.

The riflemen handed the thing around and they all took a sniff. There were gasps of surprise and chortles of laughter. When it was returned to Cooper he examined it more closely.

"Here look, there's something dried on it inside, right down the bottom. My God, you don't thinks it's...." Cooper's voice trailed off, too embarrassed to continue.

"Let me have a look at that Cooper," said Harry Price taking charge of the situation. With nimble fingers he promptly turned the item inside out to get a better look.

"There's only one way to be sure lads." Price said and with one long fingernail he scrapped a bit of the residue off and stuck it on his tongue.

"Yes, no doubt about it," he said casually "Here taste that Cooper," he offered a bit to the rifleman.

Cooper shook his head hurriedly. "Er no thanks sir, I'll take your word for it."

"Well how the bloody hell did it get into that thing?" asked Hagman, clearly upset by this revelation. "Those Frogs much be bloody good shots if they can aim it into that little thing!"

"Maybe they're using them as some sort of new target practice. Trying to improve their hand eye co-ordination?" said Harris

"I think we should be asking ourselves what the sheep was doing just before it died." said Harry Price, thinking along entirely different lines as usual.

"Hmm, I thought the Frogs were getting better with their aim. Bloody Hell, now we know why," said Hagman sadly.

"I wouldn't like to be the poor bugger who had to stand there and hold it open!" said Cooper shaking his head.

The riflemen's voices rose slowly as the discussed the new French method of improving shooting accuracy.

When Sergeant Harper arrived a few moments later, he listened with interest and then burst out laughing.

"It's not funny Harps," said Cooper worriedly. "The bloody Frogs are such good shots that they can shoot into these bloody little sheep gut things. We'll loose the war for sure now"

Harper waited until the men were quiet then said, "I think you've got it all wrong lads. I've just been talking with Sergeant Brady, who works for Major Hogan. He was telling me about these new French things that they found." The riflemen all looked at Harper, listening intently.

"Major Hogan thinks that Boney has been issuing them to all the Frog soldiers, it's to stop them catching the pox from the whores. I'd say that's what you've found and we'll probably be finding more of them."

"You mean the Frogs put these sheep gut things on their pricks?" asked Cooper incredulously.

"Well at least that would explain what we found inside it," said Hagman.

"Here comes Captain Sharpe, wait'll he hears about this," said young Perkins.

Richard Sharpe strode up to his riflemen briefly wondering what had been going on. The fact that Harry Price was with them probably meant trouble. That young man had some strange habits.

"All right lads, Wellington wants me to give these out to you. You stick them on yer rifle. If yer have time, take them off before yer shoot, otherwise just leave them there, but I hate to think what it will do for your accuracy."

The Riflemen burst out laughing. Sharpe frowned. Yes, it did sound bizarre, but orders were orders.

"That's enough, that's enough. I want each of you to take one and go and try it out. Mr Price, you can be in charge. I want a full report of how well the men perform and any loss of accuracy they experience. You'd better let me know how long it takes to get them on and off between shots too. Now get going while there's still enough light to see what yer doing."

"Yes sir," said a grinning Harry Price as he took the bag from Sharp.

"One question sir, what are they called?" he asked unable to stop smiling.

"Er... French Letters." said Sharpe. Well Lawford had said something about French Letters hadn't he? "I think it's some sort of code name."

Harry Price led the cheering riflemen away, leaving a rather confused Richard Sharpe alone with Patrick Harper.

"Bloody hell Pat, look at that, they've left their damned rifles behind! How'd they expect to test the bloody things without their rifles! And what are yer laughing at!" said Sharpe crossly. Sometimes Harper took too many liberties.

"You really didn't mean for the lads to put them on their rifles did you sir?" asked Harper trying hard to keep a straight face. "Who gave the order for that?"

"Why Colonel Lawford, of course, that's what he told me to do with them. What do yer know about it Harper?" ask Sharpe suddenly feeling that he had missed something important.

Harper laughed again and explained to his Captain what he had learned from Sergeant Brady.

"Oh bloody hell Pat." groaned Sharpe "Where do you think they've all gone?"

"Probably to the nearest brothel sir." said Harper wistfully "I just hope they don't send the bill to you."

"I hate to think what Harry Price is going to tell me in his report!" Sharpe said, slowly starting to see the funny side. "Do you think it's too late to stop them?"

"I think so sir, we probably won't see them till the morning."

"How in hell am I going to explain this to Colonel Lawford. He's going to be in for a bit of a shock when I tell him what they're meant for." Sharpe scratched his head and looked at the remaining French sheep gut that he still held in his hand. "Bloody hell, I'd better go and set him straight."

"I think that might take you a while sir." said Harper, smiling to himself.

~

 

"Ah Richard, how nice. You're early." smiled Lawford as Sharpe entered his tent.

"Sir it's about the French letters you gave me to give to the lads. They're not meant to go on their rifles sir!" Sharpe blurted out.

Lawford blushed and sat down on his bunk. "They're not? Oh, I must have misunderstood what Wellington was trying to tell me. The man really does talk in circles you know Richard." He paused and smiled at Sharpe who stood in the centre of the tent trying hard to stand at attention and not laugh.

"So what do you do with them Richard?" Lawford asked, feigning innocence.

Sharpe slowly crossed the tent to stand in front of his Colonel.

"It might be better if I demonstrated it for you sir," he said pulling out the remaining French creation from his pocket. "That way there'll be no more misunderstandings!"

 

Later that Night:

"Oh Richard, oh Richard, oh Richard!"

"Oh Shit!"

"Whatever's the matter Richard, don't stop now!"

"Bloody Hell, I've lost it sir!"

"What? You've lost what? And don't call me sir!"

"The thing, it came off...."

"Well put it back on and get going again."

"Err...I can't. I can't find it!"

"Well where is it?"

"It's er... its um... it's up ....er...er"

"Christ Richard, get it out!"

"I'm trying, but I can't find it!"

"Bloody Hell Richard!"

"Keep still sir, stop wriggling."

"Do you think I'll have to put this in my report to Wellington? And stop calling me sir."

"I wouldn't if I were you sir. Hold on a minute, I've got an idea."

"What, what, and don't call me sir!"

"Here, I know what might do the trick, I'll just find my picklock!"

 

~ Part Two ~

 

It was about noon the following day when Lieutenant Harry Price finally staggered into Richard Sharpe's tent. Price carried a sheath of papers that looked in danger of escaping from his hands at any moment.

"What do yer want Mr Price?" asked Sharpe in a gruff voice. He'd had very little sleep and was trying not to let his tiredness get the better of him.

"I'm here with my report on the French Letters, sir." said Harry as he swayed slightly and waved a hand of papers at Sharpe.

"Have you been drinking again Harry?" asked Sharpe suspiciously.

"Why no sir I've not touched a drop at all since lunch yesterday! I've been too busy. No, I'm just tired Sir. I was up all night seeing to the report you wanted on those French Letters."

"Weren't we all," muttered Sharpe trying to suppress a yawn. "Well go on then, report!"

Harry Price dropped the pile of papers on Sharpe's bed. "It's all there sir, individual performances and times, effectiveness, and I've included a few diagrams on the various ways the lads used them," said Price proudly.

Sharpe picked up the papers and flicked through them. "Bloody hell, Harry, there's fifty pages here. Can't you just give me a brief run down so I can pass it on to Colonel Lawford without reading it all." Sharpe shook his head. The last thing he wanted to do that afternoon was read about the exploits of the South Essex Regiment in a Spanish Brothel!

"Well all right sir. Harry began. "I've included a separate page on each man's performance taking into account his age and experience. They are listed according to age starting with William Matthews."

"Oh Bloody Hell Harry, yer didn't take Ensign Matthews to the brothel did yer? He's just a boy!" said Sharpe, horrified.

Harry just grinned and whispered, "You wouldn't say that if you saw him in action sir! Why he and young Perkins even got a bit of a competition going between themselves, it's right there on page nine. What those two lacked in expertise was certainly made up for in enthusiasm."

"Yes, yes, I'll read it later." Sharpe flicked through the pages. "Yer've been a bit hard on Hagman though," said Sharpe as he read the relevant page.

"Well I did make an allowance for the fact that he's nearly fifty sir, but I still think he let the side down. After all he's had a lot more experience to draw on. I'm just glad he's a good deal faster with his rifle!"

"A man does slow down a bit as he gets older yer know Lieutenant," said Sharpe absently as he continued to read.

"Oh really sir, I'll keep that in mind." smirked Harry.

Looking up Sharpe saw the smirk and added defensively, "Well that's what I've been told anyway. Now why does Isaiah Tongue have such a long report?" he added, changing the topic.

"I thought I'd include a bit of a footnote on how he got his name sir. I think you'll find it quite interesting reading," said Harry pointing to the page.

Sharpe deliberately turned a few more pages and let out a gasp.

"God almighty, what is this?" said Sharpe peering closely at a page and turning it upside down to try and work out what he was looking at.

"Yes, I'd never seen that before either sir, so I made sure that I sketched it just right for your report. You really wouldn't think it was possible but I saw it with my own two eyes," said Harry proudly. He was feeling very pleased that his Captain was taking such an interest in his report. "Cooper reckons he learnt it in India."

"And this?" asked Sharpe waving another page at Price.

"Oh that's just a doodle sir. Must have left it in by mistake."

Some doodle, thought Sharpe to himself.

"Commendations!" read Sharpe, "Why on earth have you included a list of commendations?"

"Sir, some of the lads really did perform above and beyond the call of duty. They really put everything into it. It was quite inspiring to watch them, I can tell you!"

"Particular mention should be made of Private Harris," read Sharpe aloud "who managed to quote from Voltaire at the most intimate of moments."

Sharpe groaned quietly and asked, "And how did you find the, er, French letters Harry?"

"Why I was too busy with my report to try them out sir, and to tell you the truth there wasn't anything there that caught my fancy."

Sharpe resisted the temptation to ask what Harry did fancy as he was afraid that he already knew what the answer would be.

"Well thank you Mr Price, I just need to know one other thing." Sharpe paused trying to find the best way to ask such a delicate question. "Did any of them come off?"

Harry Price laughed out loud. "Well yes sir, they all did. Wasn't that the point of the exercise."

Sharpe felt himself blush and continued in a serious voice. "The French Letter things, did any of the lads have trouble keeping them on?"

Harry frowned "Why no sir, they all seemed to fit quite snugly. No chance of them falling off."

Sharpe blushed again, I must have got a bad one, he thought to himself.

"All right Mr Price, and can you tell me who paid the bill?" Sharpe was dreading the answer.

"Oh no worries there Sir," said Harry happily. "Senora Carlotta was so taken with those French thingies that she said there would be no charge if each of her girls could keep one." Harry laughed. "You'll never guess what she thought they would stop." Harry paused and Sharpe just looked at him blankly so he continued on. "I didn't have the heart to tell her I thought she had it all wrong, after all women just have babies don't they. There's no stopping it, a bit like sheep really."

Sharpe groaned and asked. "Is that all Mr Price?"

"Well she did say she thought we should wash them out after using them, but you know what women are like sir." said Harry smiling.

Not recently, thought Sharpe to himself.

~

 

"Wake up sir," said Richard Sharpe as he gently shook the sleeping form of his Commanding Officer. William Lawford moaned and rolled over onto his back.

"Not again Richard, haven't you had enough!" he said in a sleepy voice.

"I've got the report that you wanted sir, the one on the French things."

Lawford sat up quickly and looked at Sharpe with a shocked expression.

"My god Richard, you didn't write it all down did you? How the hell am I going to give 'that' to Wellington."

"No, no sir, I didn't write it. It's Harry Price's report. Here." He handed the pile of papers to Lawford.

"You didn't let Price try them out did you Richard. That young man has an unhealthy attachment to pack mules,” said Lawford as he flicked through the papers.

"He gave them to the lads to try sir, he was strictly an observer. No need to worry."

Lawford continued reading the report, his eyes getting wider and his face turning red.

"Do you think this is the sort of report Wellington was after Richard? I mean, it's a bit...personal...don't you think."

"Maybe Sir, but I'm sure he'll have a damned good time reading it. Here, have a look at this."

Lawford blushed, "Really Richard," he said in shocked voice. "Just don't expect to try that with me!"

~

 

"I have that report you wanted sir," said William Lawford as he stood waiting at Wellington's desk.

"So soon Colonel?" asked Wellington somewhat surprised, "Well sit down and let me see it."

Lawford frowned slightly and said, "I'd rather stand if you don't mind sir, here it is."

Wellington eyed Lawford suspiciously and then took the report. He flicked through it slowly, his eyes widening.

"Well this seems to be a very thorough report, Mr Lawford. Captain Sharpe must have been up all night working on it, but why is his handwriting so shaky? What was he doing when he wrote this?"

"Oh no sir, Captain Sharpe didn't write this, he was with me all night," said Lawford suddenly blushing as he realised his mistake. "We were discussing...tactics," he announced quickly. "Harry Price wrote this."

Wellington frowned and continued "Well in that case I don't want to know what he was doing." He continued reading the report leaving Lawford to stand there uncomfortably, wishing he could leave.

"So Colonel do you have anything to add to this report?" Wellington asked as he looked up from the pages and directed his gaze at Lawford.

"Me sir?" Lawford squeaked "Oh no sir, nothing at all, sir. Will that be all now?"

"Not quite Mr Lawford, what I need to know about these 'French Letters' as you seem to be calling them, is if they are effective over a period of time. The men will have to keep using them for a few months and I expect regular updates on how they are going."

"You mean, we...er...they have to do this for a few months?" asked Lawford, unable to keep a small note of concern from his voice.

"Yes Colonel, is that a problem?" said Wellington frowning.

"Oh no sir, no problem." Lawford said quickly.

"Well if there is a problem, Colonel, I'm sure Captain Sharpe will be happy to help you out." said Wellington with a slight smile.

~

 

Wellington walked to the opening of his tent and called, "Ensign Matthews a word please."

Matthews bounded into the tent, eyes bright and smiling. "Yes Sir," he said standing to attention.

"I want you to take a message to Major Hogan for me, Mr Matthews. Tell him I request the pleasure of his company in my tent tonight for dinner and that afterwards we will go over the report on the French Secret Weapon." Wellington glanced at the report he still held in his hand and then glanced at Matthews and shook his head.

"And you'd better to tell him to bring plenty of snuff and a large bottle of brandy. It's going to be a long night."

~

 

"You wanted me sir," said Richard Sharpe as he stood once again in William Lawford's tent that afternoon.

"Yes Richard, I always do." Lawford smiled. "But I've got another job for your lads. It seems Wellington wants them to continue testing the French letters for another few months and wants to be kept informed on their progress."

Sharpe grinned at his Colonel. "Well I'm sure the lads will be pleased sir." The grin slowly faded to be replaced by a scowl. "But what are 'we' going to do about it sir?" asked Sharpe.

"Well I've been giving it a lot of thought Richard and I think I've solved the problem." He paused and looked a Sharpe who stood waiting expectantly. "We'll tie it on with string," said Lawford smiling, rather pleased with himself that he had come up with the idea.

Richard Sharpe did not look pleased. "That sounds like it'll bloody well hurt sir," he whined.

Lawford was not swayed. "This is the army Richard. We are supposed to accept a bit of pain from time to time. Lord knows I do often enough." He stood up straight and in his best Commanding Officer voice he said, "You will tie it on with string Richard and that is an order."

"Yes sir" Sharpe replied sheepishly.

~

 

LATER THAT NIGHT: - Overheard in William Lawford’s Tent

"Oh Richard, Oh Richard, Oh Richard."

"Oh yes, Oh yes, Oh sir,"

"Oh Richard, Oh Richard....do you think the string is working? And don't call me sir"

"Oh yes, it certainly seems to be doing something sir"

"Oh Richard, Oh Richard....call me by my name, Richard."

"Your name? Oh...er Oh...um Oh...um?"

"William!.....WILLIAM!"

"William?......Who the bloody hell is William, and why are you calling out his name sir?"

~

 

POSTSCRIPT - Overheard in Richard Sharpe’s Tent

"Excuse me sir."

"Bloody Hell Pat, can't yer see I'm trying to sleep! What d'yer want!"

"Well, I was wondering when I was going to get one sir. All the other lads have got one except for me and it just doesn't seem fair!"

"Yer should have damn well told me yer wanted one Harper! I'm not a bloody mind reader."

"It's not exactly the sort of thing that you can just come straight out and ask for, now is it sir. I was waiting to see if you would offer me one."

"Well all right then Harper, if you want one so badly I suppose I can give yer one. But after that you've got to let me get some sleep!"

The End. 1998


End file.
